


The Men Behind the Mustache

by dragonsoup



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, M/M, you would be hard-pressed to find this kind of seriousness anywhere else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 20:59:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3992644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonsoup/pseuds/dragonsoup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr Nags is sad. Daniel Vettori is mad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Men Behind the Mustache

**Author's Note:**

> This is the kind of bullshit my brain comes up with at 1am when I should be studying for exams. Enjoy.

Mr Nags sits in a corner of his decorated mansion sobbing loudly. Not quite sobbing as it is wailing, swearing and beating at his chest in an ugly display of grief. Who would’ve thought it? The Royal Challengers Bangalore had lost! To Chennai Super Kings! Admittedly they had been the strongest team throughout the tournament. Yet somewhere in his ice cold heart Mr Nags had believed that the tyrants could have been defeated. He had even decorated his mansion in the RCB colours, cut out thousands of pictures of Virat Kohli’s beautiful face and plastered them everywhere. (Even inside all the bathrooms.)

But alas, it was not to be and this thought has fueled Mr Nags’ incessant crying session all through the night. After what seems like a very long time (but is actually only five minutes), he wipes his tears with a wad of ₹1000 notes and takes a few deep breaths to calm himself.  


“Mr Nags? Are you there?”

It’s the last voice he expects to hear at this time and place and yet when Mr Nags turns in the direction of the voice, _the man_ is standing before him.

“Daniel Vettori, sir, what are you doing here?” Mr Nags hurriedly puts on his broken sunglasses, “Shouldn't you be at the hotel with the rest of the team?”

“I must confess,” Daniel begins, slowly moving toward Mr Nags, “I was worried about you. You left before the rest of us looking more upset than the rest of the boys.”

“I must also confess, sir, that I was under the impression you don’t like me very much. It’s ok. I’m ok. You can go back to the boys. I might look more sad but they must feel more sad.” Mr Nags quickly whips out another wad of ₹1000 notes, wipes his eyes and puts the money back in his pocket. “Really,” he continues eyeing Daniel’s concerned expression, “I am totally 100% ok.”

 _Oh if only you knew_ , Daniel think to himself, _how not ok I am_. The true reason Daniel had avoided Mr Nags throughout the IPL season is that…he had been intimidated. Mr Nags was a truly great man. One hundred hundreds against a hanging ball? Thirty-five centuries in book cricket? Fashionably broken sunglasses to adorn those eyes with perfect vision? They were all achievements that Daniel could only dream of!

But it was the mustache, that _oh so perfect_ mustache that drew Daniel in. He had believed that his own mustache was very beautiful but upon seeing Mr Nags', he felt...something stir in his heart. It was the flawlessness of the mustache, in all honesty, which had caused Daniel to maintain a distance from the legend throughout the tournament.

But recently, maintaining that distance had become much harder. There had been...certain thoughts involving the great man which played on Daniel's mind constantly. He couldn't stop thinking about Mr Nags, even at times he ought to have concentrated on other things. But now, Daniel would lay it all bare. He would speak the words aching to burst from his heart.

“There is…something else I must confess,” Daniel whispers. He is very close to Mr Nags now, their bodies inches apart.

Mr Nags is left breathless by the almost contact. _Could it possibly be..?_ “Yes,” he whispers back, taking off his sunglasses to look directly into Daniel's bespectacled eyes.

“I know your mustache is fake,” Daniel whispers icily as he rips away at the sticky tape holding the damn thing onto Mr Nags’ face.

Mr Nags collapses to the floor with a shriek. "No!" he shouts, "Please, that mustache is my source of life!"

"I know." Daniel cackles maniacally. "Now I shall reign supreme with my mustache. I just need to find Mitchell Johnson first."


End file.
